Dispatches From the Eastern Front
by Sekhem
Summary: The stories behind the rules.  Chapter Thirteen:  What Goes Up...  Rated T, for a little bit of language.
1. Two Drink Minimum

This is the first in a series of stories behind the supplemental rules and regulations. I promised my 100th reviewer (a lo-o-o-ong time ago) that I would write her a story centering on the rule of her choice, and this was one of the two she chose. The other was the story behind August 13th. I'm still not entirely sure what happened with that one, and the characters aren't talking, but this one was actually fairly easy.

So, at this point, I'm willing to throw the floor open to requests. If you want to see the story behind one of the rules, drop me a PM and let me know which one. Sooner or later, it will show up here. If it's long enough, it may even get posted on its own. To give you fair warning, though, the songs will probably never see the light of day beyond the occasional reference. I can tell you right now that I suck at writing poetry.

As always, FMA and all associated characters and situations are not mine. Reviews (and requests) are much appreciated, and I will reply when and where possible.

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Two Drink Minimum

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For Wanna Be Alchemist. I hope you like it.

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8 p.m.

"I have to tell you, Riza," Gracia Hughes said as she nursed a whiskey and soda, "I think this prank war is good for them."

Riza Hawkeye nearly choked on her drink. "How – " she gasped, " – How do you mean?"

"Maes and Roy, they're almost like they were before the war," she explained. "It's like they've only just remembered they could have fun."

"And turn the office inside out..." Riza added.

"True. Maes has come home with some…interesting…stories."

"...and traumatize Fuery and Fullmetal," Hawkeye said as though Gracia hadn't spoken. "I think they're both going to need a psychiatrist before this is over."

"I know a few people if that happens. Just because I'm married doesn't mean I'm not still connected." Gracia finished the rest of her drink, and changed the subject. "So, is it true about you and Roy?"

Riza paused with her drink about halfway to her lips. "What about me and Roy?" Her tone promised bloodshed at the minimum.

"That you and Roy have finally become a couple."

"WHAT?" The younger woman was staring at her as if she'd just grown a second head.

Gracia sighed and ordered another round. She had a feeling they were going to need it.

#

9 p.m.

#

"…it's not that I don't like Roy Mustang," Riza said. "I do, but I just can't see myself married to him. Not yet, anyway…"

"So you're just his – what? – faithful assistant?" The alcohol was definitely starting to have an effect, of that Gracia was sure.

Riza finished off her drink and beamed at her. "I'm more than that," she said. She gestured expansively, only to end up spinning on her stool. "I'm…his bodyguard."

Gracia was singularly unimpressed. "And that means…?"

Riza finished off the rest of Gracia's drink. "It means…" She hiccuped, and blinked in surprised at the sound. "…it means that I am the only one allowed to shoot him in the back."

Gracia looked in annoyance at her empty glass. "And that's a good thing?"

Riza nodded enthusiastically, and nearly fell off her stool. "It means that nobody else in the whole wide world can do it. Just me." She paused. "That should go on the rules list."

"I think it already has."

"Good." Riza picked up the glass in front of her, and only then seemed to notice it was empty. She stared at it for a moment, held it up to the light – such as there was – then turned it upside down to make sure. "Gracie," she said, sounding remarkably like Elysia when she was disappointed, "my glass is empty."

Gracia snickered and flagged down the bartender. They definitely needed another round.

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10 p.m.

#

"It isn't that I mind this whole prank war thing," Gracia said, fumbling for the glass in front of her. The damn thing kept moving every time she took her hand off it. "…it's the influence it's…it's having on Elysia."

Riza nodded wisely. "The Bucket Incident," she said, and giggled. "I didn't even know Maes knew that kind of language."

"I did," Gracia said. "I just didn't expect him to teach it to her."

"She had to learn sometime," Riza said.

"Not," Gracia said, "from her father, she didn't."

Riza took another drink. "It can't be that bad…can it?"

Gracia scowled at her. "Do you know," she said, "that _my daughter_ wanted to know what a motherfucker was? A three-year-old should not know that word even exists, much less use it."

Riza couldn't agree more, but the fact that Gracia knew that word existed suddenly struck her as funny enough that she fell off her barstool laughing. "What did you tell her?" she asked between giggles.

"I asked her where she'd heard it," she said. "Then I explained to her that she shouldn't use that kind of language." She hiccuped and stared moodily into her whiskey. "Then I yelled at Maes for a while. Then I yelled at Roy even longer."

"Did it help?"

Gracia thought about it for a moment. "I scared Roy, but yes," she said, "I think it did."

Riza regarded her friend with a new respect. "What did you say to him?"

"I told him that if he cursed in front of Elysia again, I'd tell his men about the time he almost blew up the university when we were in school," she said.

"He WHAT?"

Gracia brightened at that. "Oh, he never told you?" She flagged down the bartender again. Storytelling was thirsty work, and this definitely called for another round. "Well, here's how it happened…"

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11 p.m.

#

Colonel Roy Mustang hated staying at work any later than he had to, but considering that he'd heard movement in one of the mountains of paperwork on his desk, and that Fullmetal and his brother were out of town so it couldn't have been him, he figured he should find the source and kill it before it spread. He'd made a fair amount of progress, and was just thinking about heading home when the phone rang.

"This is Mustang," he said.

"This is Smokey Joe's Bar and Grill," the man on the other end of the line shouted. In the background, Roy could hear the refrain from the song about the one-armed alchemist and the girl with the chainsaw, known popularly as That Song. "We have one of your people here…I think."

"What do you mean, 'you think?'" he demanded. "Do you or don't you?"

"Well, sir, she hasn't given her name, but she claimed she was your bodyguard."

Roy paused. "Was there another woman with her?" he asked suspiciously. In the background, he could hear two familiar voices swing into the verse about the attachments to the alchemist's automail, their uses, and what the girl thought of them.

"Yeah, there was. Pretty little thing, too," the barkeeper said. "Never would have thought she could hold her liquor like that."

A memory stirred in the back of Roy's mind, of another late night, nearly a decade ago, and an unexpected welcome at a bar he and Maes were still banned from even now. "Was this woman's name Gracia?" he asked.

"Your _bodyguard_ – " Roy hadn't thought anyone other than Captain Jack Harkness could put so much innuendo into just one word. " – called her 'Gracie' but it could be."

The teenage boy he'd been a decade ago would have cackled and started plotting a campaign of teasing that would have warranted at least five attempts at murder. Time, maturity, and responsibility, however, had tempered his response to a smirk, and a note to himself to hide Riza's ammunition until she'd recovered from her hangover.

"I'll be there to collect them shortly," he said. "Just let me make a call first."

"Closing time is at midnight," he said. "I want those women gone by then."

Before the barkeeper hung up, Roy could hear in the background the beginning of the song about the Ishbalan priest with the magic hands, a song almost as filthy as the one they'd just finished. For the first time, he was grateful nobody was there with him. He was reasonably sure his face was red as the proverbial beet.

He took a moment to get a hold of himself before he picked up the phone and dialed.

"Hwzzt?" came the incoherent answer from the other end.

"Maes, it's me," he said. "We have a situation..."

-0-


	2. Prank War:  Opening Shot

Now we have it, ladies and gentlemen. The beginning of the story behind the prank war, now that we've seen one of the effects, namely that of driving two otherwise sane women to drink and the corruption of a toddler's vocabulary.

Thanks to those who have sent in requests. I'll write as many as I can, and probably a few more besides. We have an entire prank war to get through, remember?

Nothing's changed in the last few weeks, so I still don't own FMA.

Let me know what you think. Reviews are always welcome, and I'll respond to as many as possible.

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Prank War: Opening Shot

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The legendary prank war of the Eastern Headquarters started small, the way most things do. It had started one afternoon when Colonel Roy Mustang had taken a rare afternoon off and had gone to visit his best friend, Maes Hughes, at his home.

Maes's daughter, Elysia, had been listening with interest to their conversation about work, and had unexpectedly interrupted with a question about the phrase "dog of the military."

"Do you have to walk on a leash, like Mitzi does?" she asked.

Maes stifled a grin and not-so-successfully hid a snicker. Roy glared briefly at him before answering. "Who's Mitzi?" he asked.

"Mrs. Kimball, next door. She walks her dog, Mitzi, every day about the time I get home" Maes explained.

"The dog?" Roy wasn't sure whether to laugh or be insulted. Considering that Elysia was looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes and waiting for an answer, he laughed. "No," he said, "it's just what some people call State Alchemists."

"Why do they call them that?" Elysia asked.

"Because..." _...we come when we're called, we do what we're told, damn the consequences, and we don't ask questions._ That was what he wanted to say. "Because we protect people," he said, rather lamely, "like what Mitzi probably does for Mrs. Kimball."

If it was possible, Elysia's eyes went even wider. "Did you ever have to bite anybody?"

_Burn, yes, bite, no._ The look on Maes's face suggested he was thinking the same thing. "No, Elysia," he said, and rumpled her hair. "You'd have to talk to your Big Brother Edward about that."

Elysia giggled and nodded, then ran off to go play.

"I take it Ed bit you last time you two fought?" Maes said.

"I still have his teeth marks on my shin, Maes," he said.

Maes looked disappointed. "You weren't making height jokes again, were you, Roy?" he said.

"Have you ever known me to be less than fair to the kid?" Roy said, in mock-disappointment.

Maes went deadpan. "Yes."

About that time, Maes's wife, Gracia, came out of the house with a tray of drinks and sandwiches in her arms. "I thought you two might like a snack," she said. She set the tray down on the table and pulled a chair up between them. "And I thought I might join you, if you don't mind."

"Why would we?" Maes said, and leaned over to kiss her.

On that note, the topic was dropped and, Roy had thought, completely forgotten as the three of them started talking about old times and watching Elysia play.

About three months later, he learned that it hadn't been. Maes had always had a gift for squirreling information away in that filing cabinet he kept in his head, and pulling that information out when he could use it to his best advantage. Roy had forgotten that particular fact until the day he turned twenty-eight.

His men - up to and including the Elric brothers - had apparently made a point of having not forgotten his birthday, and had surprised him with a cake. Gracia had baked it, so it was very good cake. It even had the fresh strawberries on top, just the way he'd always liked it. They had also had a few presents for him - some appropriate, and others that would have made most women blush. Riza Hawkeye, on the other hand, only sighed, and gave Havoc a disapproving look.

"There's one more, Roy," Maes said. He'd somehow managed to sneak away from his office and the massive caseload he'd been complaining about for weeks long enough to join the party. He pushed a small box wrapped in red and gold paper into Roy's hands. "This one's from me."

Roy turned it over in his hands, and shook it. "Doesn't seem to be breakable."

"Around here, that's a plus," Havoc said, sotto voce.

"Is that an insult?" Edward snapped.

"Nah, just an observation, Boss," Havoc said.

Edward didn't quite snarl, but Alphonse put a gently restraining hand on his brother's shoulder. "He didn't mean anything by it, Brother," he said. "Open it up, Colonel."

Roy did, only to find a blue leather leash and dog collar with a gold tag that read "Sparky" neatly wrapped in tissue paper inside. His first instinct was to put on his ignition gloves and turn his best friend into a piece of toast, but instead he kept his face neutral as he pulled the offending items out of the box and looked up at Maes, who was grinning like homemade sin. "Care to explain?" he asked mildly, even as Ed took one look at the leash and started cackling insanely.

Maes was already sidling out of the room. "It's what every fashionable dog of the military is wearing this season," he said, already halfway to the door. "I made sure it matched your uniform and everything. I..."

Whatever he was about to say was cut off by Roy's yell and sudden lunge for his throat. The two of them scrambled madly out the door, down the corridor, and down the steps, Roy yelling incoherently and Maes laughing almost as insanely as Edward.

The sudden silence, aside from Ed's remaining giggles, in the office following the colonel and lieutenant colonel's abrupt departure was almost deafening. Hawkeye was the one who broke it at last. "They haven't changed since they were teenagers," she sighed. "Back to work everyone."

#

"So, how did he take it?" Gracia asked as she got the meatloaf out of the oven. "As badly as you thought?"

"Not quite," Maes said, grinning although his face had some very interesting bruises and he was blind as a bat from where his glasses had been broken in the ensuing brawl. "He didn't torch me, that's all I can say."

"You sure that's all he's planning to do?" she asked, remembering some very interesting arguments between her husband and his best friend that had spanned for weeks and done some interesting damage to university property when they'd been in college.

"Positive," he said. "I think this is the last we'll hear about it."

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To Be Continued...


	3. Prank War:  Return Volley

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the story behind the theft of Hughes's camera, complete with musical accompaniment...after a fashion, and written mainly from Elysia's POV. I have to admit I had fun writing this, and it turned out to be unexpectedly cute and fluffy near the end.

Reviews and suggestions are welcome, and I'll respond to as many as possible. Let me know what you think.

Things are still status quo, and FMA still isn't mine.

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_**Music cue: "Pink Panther theme" by Henry Mancini**_

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The people who saw the little girl in the green and white dress tiptoeing down the hall of Eastern HQ towards the Investigations Office really didn't think anything of it. They knew her by sight and name from listening to her father brag and from seeing the pictures he'd taken of her, so it never occurred to them to question her presence or what she was doing.

Elysia Hughes knew none of this. She was on a Secret Mission from her Uncle Roy, and he'd promised her an ice cream sundae if she succeeded. Daddy and everybody he worked with were running around like scared chickens because of something somebody had put up on the bulletin board - whatever that was - and were taking turns baby-sitting her big brother Alphonse and little big brother Edward, so she knew he wasn't in his office.

"_I want to borrow you dad's camera," Uncle Roy said, "and I need you to get it for me. Can you do that?"_

_She tilted her head and frowned. "Did he say you could have it?" she asked. _

_When she looked back years later, she would describe his smile at that moment as predatory. "I want to surprise him," he said. "And I want you to help me."_

"_Will I get yelled at?" Mommy and Daddy rarely yelled at her, but the few times they had, she still remembered vividly._

"_I'll take responsibility," he said. "And if you do a good job, I'll buy you an ice cream sundae. Do we have a deal?"_

_She thought about it for a second, and nodded._

As Elysia squeezed through the open door of Daddy's office, she could hear his helper, Miss Sciezka, talking on the phone to Uncle Alex about somebody named Envy. She sounded worried, but Elysia didn't have time to stop and find out what was going on. She had a camera to get.

She tiptoed past Miss Sciezka's desk and into Daddy's office. He wasn't there, of course. He was helping to protect her big brothers. She looked around, then climbed up onto his chair. There were stacks of papers and pictures, including one of her and Mommy, a whole stack of books, and - aha! – Daddy's camera on the corner.

She picked it up and carefully climbed back down, clutching her prize. She passed Miss Sciezka again, and waved happily to her as she left.

"Elysia?" She craned her neck all the way back, to see her Uncle Jean looking down at her. "What've you got there?"

Elysia beamed at him. "Daddy's camera," she said. "Uncle Roy wants to surprise him."

Uncle Jean's eyes narrowed. "Yeah, I'll bet he does," he said strangely. "Oh, he'll be surprised, all right." He leaned down and rumpled her hair. "Go on, kiddo. I won't tell on ya."

She didn't quite scowl at him. She liked him well enough, but he wasn't any good at babysitting. She'd learned that much after what happened on the playground last time he looked after her. She'd never heard Mommy and Daddy yell at anyone like that, and she hadn't seen Uncle Roy or Uncle Jean for three days after that. That was probably why he wasn't helping Daddy protect her brothers.

She went back down the hall with nobody paying any attention to her or Daddy's camera. The door to Uncle Roy's office was wide open, so she just went on in.

"Uncle Roy?" she said. He was on the phone, and not listening.

"...Of course I'm still here, Elizabeth," he purred. "Are we still on for tonight?" Elizabeth, whoever she was, answered, and he laughed. "I was thinking dinner at your favorite restaurant, after we check on the kids, of course. So, I'll see you at eight o'clock, then?"

"Uncle Roy?" she said a little louder.

He looked down and smiled. "I've got to go," he said. "One of my special agents just came back from a mission. And it looks like she was successful." He smiled again, the way Daddy smiled at Mommy when they didn't think she was looking, at whatever she said. "I'll tell you all about it when I see you," he said. "I love you, too." He hung up the phone, all serious again except for the twinkle in his eye. "Your report, Agent Hughes?" he said.

"Here," she said, and held the camera up to him.

He took it and put in the bottom drawer of his desk. "Well done," he said. He turned the key in the lock, then picked her up. "So, chocolate, strawberry, or vanilla ice cream for your sundae?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yes!"

"I think I can do that," he said. "I'll just let Private Sciezka know I'm borrowing you for a few hours."

She nodded, and hung on as he strode down the hall towards Daddy's office and stuck his head in the door. "Sciezka, if Hughes comes back any time soon, let him know I took one of my favorite girls for ice cream, okay?"

Miss Sciezka put a hand over the phone, and looked at him for a second as if she didn't know what was going on, then smiled. "Okay," she said. "Have fun, Elysia."

Elysia beamed at her, and waved. "Bye!" she said.

She was quiet as Uncle Roy carried her down the steps and out of the building. "Uncle Roy," she said at last, "I thought Aunt Riza was your favorite girl."

"I can't have more than one favorite?" he asked. "Where's the fun in that?"

She tightened her grip around his neck. "Miss Sciezka and Big Sister Winry say you want to marry her."

"That might not be for a long time, Elysia," Uncle Roy said. "But when - I mean, if - I do marry her, I'll make sure you and your mama and papa are at the wedding, all right?"

"Do you promise?" she asked.

He nodded. "You have my word as an alchemist."

Elysia considered that for a long moment, then smiled. "Deal."

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To Be Continued...

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A/N: Any guesses who Elizabeth is?


	4. Crank Calls and Broken Brains

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the first , but not the last, time Fuery's brain gets broken. For the most part, this is going to be dialogue only, so I leave it up to your imaginations who's doing the crank calling.

I own nothing in this fic, not even the jokes. The FMA characters belong to Hiromu Arakawa, everyone else belongs to their respective owners, and some of the jokes are older than I am.

Reviews are welcome, and I'll respond to as many as I can, and thanks in advance for reading.

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*ring-ring*

"Colonel Mustang's office."

"This is Father Cornello of Liore. Have you been told of the glory of the great god Leto?"

"No."

*click*

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*ring-ring*

"Colonel Mustang's office."

"This is Paracelsus. Are my boys there?"

"I wouldn't know, sir."

"Thank you."

*click*

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*ring-ring*

"Colonel Mustang's office."

"This is the operator, sir. I have a man calling himself the Iron Blood Alchemist calling collect from the afterlife. Will you accept the charges?"

"No."

*click*

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*ring-ring*

"...hello?"

"Hello, Katsuya, is that you?"

"Sorry, I think you have a wrong number. This is Colonel Roy Mustang's office."

"Oh, sorry."

*click*

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*ring-ring*

"Colonel Mustang's office."

"This is the man you know as Scar. Is the Flame Alchemist in? I have some...matters...I want to discuss with him."

"I'll...make sure he gets the message."

*click*

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*ring-ring*

*ring-ring*

"Colonel Mustang's office."

"Heero, this is Duo. I got your message. You'll have to catch me first." Maniacal laughter.

"..."

*click*

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*ring-ring*

*ring-ring*

"Colonel Mustang's office."

"Hi. I'd like to order a large pepperoni and mushroom pizza, with extra pineapple..."

"I'm sorry. I think you have the wrong number."

"Oh, sorry."

*click*

"...what's a pizza...?"

#

*ring-ring*

*ring-ring*

"...Colonel Mustang's office."

"Damn you, Kudo! When I get my hands on you, I'm going to - !"

*click*

"..."

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*ring-ring*

*ring-ring*

*ring-ring*

"...hello?"

"This is the Lady Dante. Is my apprentice there?"

"I wouldn't know, milady."

"If you see her, tell her she needs to quite slacking off."

"...um...I will."

*click*

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*ring-ring*

*ring-ring*

*ring-ring*

"...Colonel Mustang's office..."

"Hi. Do you have Prince Ling in a can?"

"...yes...?"

"Well let the little freeloader out. He can't breathe in there."

*click*

"..."

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*ring-ring*

*ring-ring*

*ring-ring*

"...hello?"

"Hi. It's me."

"Um...hi..."

"So, what are you wearing?"

*click*

"..."

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*ring-ring*

*ring-ring*

*ring-ring*

"C-colonel Mustang's office..."

"Is this Master Sergeant Caine Fuery?"

"...yes..."

"If you want to see your mother alive again - "

"You can have her!"

"...hello? Hello?"

#

Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye entered the office with a look of bemusement on her face. "Did something happen when I was at lunch, sir?" she asked.

Mustang put down his pen, grateful for the distraction from his paperwork. "The phone was ringing off the hook," he said, "but Fuery seemed to be handling it."

"That's just it, sir," she said. "I just passed Sergeant Fuery in the hall. He looked like he was crying and was saying something about finding a place where they'd never even heard of the telephone."

"Give him some time to calm down, and we can ask him then."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," he said. "It's probably just overwork, anyway."

"Should I take that as a hint, sir?"

"...no."

"I didn't think so."

-0-

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Crank calls. No.

_After spending a day fielding phone calls from people variously claiming to be Father Cornello of Liore, Lady Dante, the ghost of the Iron Blood Alchemist, Scar, Fuhrer Bradley, Paracelsus, and "the people who have your mother," Caine Furey burst into tears and fled the radio room._

#


	5. Prank War:  Eight Legged Hellbeast

Sorry this took so long, everyone. Work's been...work, and I've been trying to write for a couple of different challenges, only to get hit with the mother of all cases of writer's block. I swear, it seemed like I could write anything except on those challenges. Not that I didn't try, mind you.

There will be another chapter of Supplemental Rules and Regulations going up soon - hopefully in the next few days - so don't worry, I haven't forgotten about it.

So, as always, thanks in advance for the reviews. I will respond to as many as I can.

Unfortunately, FMA still doesn't belong to me. If it did, Mustang and Hawkeye would have been married with at least one kid by the end.

And on that note, I give you...

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Eight-Legged Freak

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Riza Hawkeye leaped off the tower and was in mid-air for a sickening few seconds before she caught hold of the rope and shimmied quickly to the bottom. As her boots touched the ground, the captain in charge of the obstacle course jogged up to her.

"You trying to break the record, Lieutenant?" he asked.

"Not intentionally," she said. "How was my time?"

"Five tenths of a second faster than last time," he said. "Not bad."

She smiled serenely. "I can do better," she said.

She meant it, too.

Riza hadn't been required to run the obstacle course on a regular basis since she was in the academy, but since she'd become Roy Mustang's bodyguard, she'd taken it up again. She couldn't afford not to if she was going to protect him, and, besides, it was a better way to blow off steam than some of the others she'd seen lately.

_Fun with Seafood Week, indeed_, she thought, as she passed a brightly decorated poster with starfish and seashells on it.

She strolled towards the women's locker room, stretching her sore muscles and looking forward to a hot shower and a chance to change out of her sweaty uniform. She hadn't had a workout that good for a while.

She went into the locker room, and changed out of her sweaty uniform and into the short robe she kept in her locker. She folded her dirty clothes and put them away so she could take them home later, then gathered her bath things and her towels and headed for the showers.

Riza had just hung her robe on the peg on the wall, and started to turn the water on when she realized she was not alone. "What the hell…?"

A...something...was hanging limply from a wire clothes hanger. The body…if it could be called that…was about the size of a half-grown cat, and it had eight long tentacles that dangled halfway to the floor. It looked like it was dead, which was just as well because she was unarmed, and it was definitely something she did not ever want to see coming at her in a dark alley. Or a well-lit boulevard, for that matter.

Her first thought was that it was a prank. Gods knew there were enough of them being played around the office lately, but she had no idea what it was, or where anyone would find anything that looked like this.

She pulled her robe back on, stepped out of the stall, letting the curtain fall shut behind her, took a deep breath, and screamed bloody murder.

#

#

There is no such thing as "Fun With Seafood" week.

_When Lt. Hawkeye came in from the obstacle course to find what appeared to be an eight-legged hellbeast on a hanger in the women's shower, her shriek could be heard from one end of the base to the other._


	6. Skirmish:  Bagging for Trouble

This is one I've been planning to do for a while. The set-up was just too good. The only problem was, whose point of view I should write it from. I toyed with the idea of writing it from a hawk's eye view, so to speak, but quickly decided it would be funnier to write it from the trappers' POV and look at Hawkeye through their eyes.

This is the result.

As always, FMA and its associated characters and situations still aren't mine, and if they were, I'd be a much wealthier woman.

Joshua Morgenstern and Cody Robbins are more or less part of the unpublished (so far as I know) fiction belonging to an old friend from my college days. Unfortunately, I don't know where he is to ask his permission to use them.

So…this one's for you, Paul.

Reviews are always welcome, and I'll reply to as many as I can.

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Bagging for Trouble

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It had been a beautiful plan, even if it had been Joshua Morgenstern's idea. Snare the third floor hallway every ten feet and catch some poor unsuspecting soul who's not expecting it. His partner would take pictures, and they would tease their victim from then until Doomsday.

It had been a beautiful plan. They'd caught Warrant Officer Fallman, Lt. Havoc, one of the Elrics, and (after they'd fixed the net) a couple of Lt. Colonel Hughes's people (that Ross chick – yowza!). The only one they hadn't actively tried to capture was little Elysia Hughes, and that was because neither he nor Josh wanted to die at the hands of an enraged parent.

It had really been a beautiful plan...

...right up until they caught Riza Hawkeye.

Strictly speaking, Lt. Hawkeye was not the scariest woman on base. That dubious honor currently belonged to General Olivia Armstrong, who was supposedly there to visit her brother, though rumor had it she'd been seen getting cozy with Master Sergeant Furey, of all people.

Warrant Officer Cody Robbins set aside any and all speculation about that for another time. Preferably one where he had a gallon of brain bleach on hand, and didn't have a seriously scary woman caught in a net, dangling from the ceiling, and giving him the evil eye.

The lieutenant glowered wordlessly at him, as if she were already deciding how long she would make him suffer before she killed him. "Warrant Officer Robbins..." she said at last.

Cody felt his palms start to sweat. "Y-yes, ma'am?" he managed after a moment. Where the hell was Josh?

"I don't suppose you'd care to explain yourself?" Her voice was as soft as the sound of a sword being drawn.

"Uh..." _Think fast, Robbins_. "Survival training, ma'am," he said.

"Survival training."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, a little more confidently. "The theory was that if we put traps in places where they're not expected to be, people sill start to expect there to be traps where they aren't expected." And where the hell was Josh?

Hawkeye frowned as she tried to puzzle it out. "Let me get this straight," she said. "You did this to - "

She was cut off mid-sentence by a flash of light and a maniacal war whoop.

...and there the hell was Josh.

"A hundred and twenty pounds if she's an ounce." Captain Joshua Morgenstern emerged from his hiding place, practically dancing with glee. "Man, Robbins, we really bagged a beauty this...oh, fuck."

"Captain Morgenstern..." she said in that same dangerously even tone of voice.

"'Bout time you got here," Cody hissed. "What the hell do we do now?"

Josh's smile was a little forced. "Well, we could always bag her not to kill us."

Not for the first time in their association, Cody was more than tempted to murder his best friend. He looked at Hawkeye, who had pulled a utility knife from somewhere on her person and was calmly sawing at the ropes. "I don't think that's an option, Josh."

"Plan B, then?" Josh said casually.

Cody nodded. "Exactly what I was thinking."

"Okay, then. RUN!"

#

Snares in the hallway. Don't even think about it.

_Neither side would admit to putting it there, especially after it caught Lt. Hawkeye. Warning shots were fired, and both sides laid low for a week._

#

Sorry about the puns. I borrowed them from the Marx brothers. It seemed to fit, and I didn't think they'd mind.


	7. The Oncoming Storm

Oddly enough, this piece practically wrote itself. One of my reviewers asked for a piece centering on either the Doctor or Captain Jack, and that dovetailed quite nicely with a crossover idea I've been playing with for a while now. Don't look for it any time soon, though. It's still in development hell.

FMA still isn't mine, and neither are the Doctor or Captain Jack. If they were, I'd be a much happier woman.

Reviews are, as always, welcome, and I will respond to as many as I can.

#

Storm Warning

#

Riza Hawkeye had been watching the clouds for the past ten minutes, and Roy Mustang was more amused than he probably should have been. Hawkeye was the rock everyone leaned on, and the main reason any work got done in the office, so catching her daydreaming was a rare treat indeed.

"There's a storm coming," she murmured, and the silence was broken when Roy Mustang's pencil snapped like the proverbial twig in his grasp.

"What...what do you know about that?" he said.

Riza cocked her head in apparent confusion. "Sir?"

"The Storm," he said, and shivered.

"What are you talking about, sir?" she asked, frowning.

"The Oncoming Storm," he said, and he knew she could hear the capital letters.

She knelt so she could look him in the eye. "Colonel," she said, "with all due respect, the Oncoming Storm is a story. Father told the stories to me when I was little."

"My mother told me, too," he said. "But the stories take place all through Amestrian history. Did you ever notice that? The same name, but different men, and death always followed him."

"You sound like you've done research."

"I was curious, Riza," he said. "My mother and your father taught me not to take anything for granted, and I wanted to see if there was any truth to them."

"They're fairy tales, sir," she said. "That's all."

He looked at her for the first time during the conversation. "Are you sure?" he asked. "There've been a lot of weird things happening lately."

"Such as?"

"That telephone booth that mysteriously appeared in the motor pool last night," he said.

"That's probably just someone's idea of a prank, sir," she said, a note of disapproval in her voice. "The gods know there are enough of those these days."

#

Elsewhere, a man and a young woman looked around the marketplace like explorers surveying virgin territory.

"I don't see a sign of him anywhere, Doctor," the young woman said. "You'd think someone six feet tall and gorgeous would have trouble blending in."

"Well, that's Jack for you," her companion said darkly. "We should never have brought him in the first place."

"We couldn't just leave him there," she said. "He'd have drunk himself to death."

"And he'd come right back again, like a boomerang." The Doctor jammed his hands into his pockets. "He's unnatural, he is."

The woman glared at him. "Half the people I grew up with were unnatural," she said. "My father was killed by something unnatural. And who the hell are you to say what's natural or not, anyway?"

"I happen to be a Time Lord, missy, and don't you forget it," the Doctor began. "I - "

" - can feel the world turn under your feet, time and space, blah, blah, blah" she interrupted with a dismissive wave of her hand. "If I'd wanted pontificating, I'd have looked up Uncle Alex." She grabbed his hand and started to drag him into the sea of humanity. "Now, let's go find Jack before we have to make too many apologies..."

#

To be continued...

#

The Oncoming Storm is not coming to get you. Stop saying he is.

_The Oncoming Storm was a character in bedtime stories that parents told their children if they didn't want them to become alchemists._

#

Virtual cookies to anyone who figures out who his companion is. ;)


	8. Babysitting 101:  What Not to Do

This one practically wrote itself. I think I did it in about forty-five minutes altogether, though it's been percolating since I started writing Supplemental Rules. The idea of a hyper-caffeinated Elysia Hughes was just too good to pass up.

This is actually based on an old family story. The culprits in question were my grandfather and great-grandfather, and the little kid was my mother. My grandmother was not amused.

However, I hope you are. Let me know what you think.

As always, unless I get them for Christmas, FMA and the associated characters and situations are not mine.

#

Babysitting 101: What Not to Do

#

Gracia Hughes prided herself on not being an overprotective parent. She left that part of raising their daughter to Maes. Letting Elysia play in the yard while she sat on the patio and read, sure. Letting her see how high she could swing on the swings at the park, as long as she was supervised, okay. But the one major mistake she had made was to leave Elysia in the care of her husband and his best friend for the afternoon while she ran a few errands.

Individually, Maes and Roy were reasonably intelligent, mature adults. Put them together, and they reverted to about twelve years old.

When she'd left, the two of them had been holed up in Roy's office discussing what had sounded like the serial murder case that had been giving Maes fits for the past week and a half. Elysia had brought her new coloring book, her crayons, some drawing paper, and her favorite doll with her, so Gracia was reasonably sure that the little one wouldn't be getting into trouble on her own.

The small pig-tailed missile that hit her in the shins when she came to pick Elysia up told her otherwise. "Mama!" Elysia crowed. "MamaMamaMamaMama!"

"Breathe, Elysia," Gracia said as she picked her up. "Remember, I told you your body needs air."

Elysia stopped and took an exaggeratedly deep breath. "MAMA!" she yelled, right in Gracia's ear. "We had fun today!"

"What did you do?"

Elysia screwed her face up in thought. "Daddy and Uncle Roy talked about the rit-all people," she said.

"The rit-all people?" she said, mentally translating her daughter's words. She must have meant the killers Maes was tracking. From what little he'd said, there'd been evidence of religious rites performed over the bodies. "What about them?"

"Daddy's gonna sneak up on them, and Uncle Roy and Little Big Brother are gonna make them go - " She put her hands together the way Gracia had seen Edward Elric do on more than one occasion. " - BOOM!"

She looked across the room at Maes and Roy, who looked suspiciously like two little boys who had just gotten into trouble and were looking desperately for an escape route. She had learned to recognize and dread that look when the three of them were in college.

"...and then Uncle Roy and Little Big Brother started yelling at each other, and..." Elysia broke off. "Mama, what's a bastard?"

"I'll tell you when you're older," she said, making a mental note to have a word with Edward about his language.

"...and then Uncle Roy and Daddy and me, we had coffee," Elysia finished proudly.

That stopped Gracia dead. "Coffee," she repeated.

Elysia nodded enthusiastically, her pigtails flying. "Yup."

"Coffee doesn't taste that good, Elysia," Gracia said. "I wouldn't think you'd like it." She knew for a fact that both Roy and Maes drank their coffee strong enough to eat the cup, which was why she always stuck with tea.

Elysia patted her on the arm. "It's okay, Mama," she said. "Daddy put sugar in it."

"Sugar," Gracia repeated. "How much sugar?"

Elysia thought about it, then raised her hand with all five fingers extended. "This many," she said.

"Was that all?"

Elysia shook her head. "Daddy put milk in, too, but Little Big Brother didn't want him to." She lowered her voice. "I told Little Big Brother that if he didn't drink his milk he wouldn't grow, and he went - " She folded her arms and made a face just like Ed had made when he got milk the last time he was in the hospital.

About that time, Riza Hawkeye came in, bless her heart. "I heard a noise in here, sir," she said. "Is everything all right?"

"Everything's fine, Riza," Gracia said. She shifted her grip on Elysia, and asked, "Elysia, how would you like to go with Auntie Riza for a few minutes while I talk to Daddy and Uncle Roy, hmmm?"

Elysia nodded enthusiastically. "'kay!" she said, and launched herself into the younger woman's arms. "Hi, Aunt Riza," she said.

Riza smiled at her honorary niece. "Hello, Elysia," she said. "Why don't we go draw some pictures while we wait?"

Elysia nodded.

"I'll take good care of her, Gracia," she said, and carried Elysia back into the front room, pausing just long enough to lock the door behind her. No sense in letting the Colonel or Lieutenant Colonel escape.

Not just yet, anyway.

#

Base personnel under the age of sixteen are not to be given coffee under any circumstances. (By order of Gracia Hughes.)

_Elysia Hughes, gas molecule. Her father and honorary uncle went into hiding until Gracia and Elysia both had calmed down._

#


	9. Laundry Day

Okay, I have to admit, this one is pure, shameless, fluffy Royai. Normally I prefer it with a bit of a bite (or at least a few scorch marks) but the two of them just wouldn't cooperate.

This is definitely pre-series, but considering that Mustang's still getting teased about it at least ten years later, it fits in here.

As always, these folks aren't mine. I'm just kind of borrowing them for a little while.

Let me know what you think.

#

Laundry Day

#

**_SNAP!_**

A fireball erupted abut ten feet away and five feet off the ground.

**_SNAP!_**

The air in the backyard warmed and the chill vanished from the morning air. His teacher's daughter looked up from her laundry and favored him with one of her rare smiles.

He returned the smile, but inside he was dancing.

**_SNAP!_**

The air about thirty feet up exploded in a burst of pyrotechnics.

Miss Riza, still smiling, hung a freshly-washed bedsheet up to dry.

**_SNAP!_**

Jets of flame appeared about six inches above the clothespins.

Miss Riza hung another sheet on the line and started to pour out her wash water.

He made a few calculations in his mind, and took aim. If he did this right, they could have the dry laundry in the house in ten minutes, and he could take her for some ice cream.

**_SNAP!_**

The sheet turned the color of burnt toast, then burst into flame.

"Roy, you idiot!"

#

Looking back on it years later, he would remember that morning not because his master nearly incinerated him, but because it was the first time Riza called him by his first name.

#

Hanging laundry does not equal target practice.

"_I only did that once, Riza!"_

"_I know, sir."_

"_I was a teenager. I didn't know any better."_

"_Of course not, sir."_


	10. Shock to the System

Okay. This one's a slight left turn into something a little more serious, but considering the nature of the rule, and the irony of what comes later, you'll understand.

This is probably one of the few serious pieces I've had in the works at this point. In most of the work out there, it's usually Ed or Hawkeye, or even Havoc who ends up in the hospital with Mustang worrying himself into the ground over them. I just wondered how badly he'd take it if it were someone who usually managed to stay out of the crossfire. Which is how this piece came to be.

This is my first real venture into the realm of hurt/comfort. Let me know what you think.

As always, I don't own these folks. I'm just borrowing them for a little while.

#

Shock to the System

#

_The fight had ended nearly as quickly as it had begun. The creature called Envy had got onto the base and the Elrics had found him. They'd fought their way down the hallway and finally brought the battle to the offices Mustang and his men used, probably hoping that Mustang would burn it to death._

_They'd fought fiercely but Envy had managed to sneak out the window in the chaos. At first glance, everyone had been all right. Nobody had been shot, scorched, or otherwise injured, and the paperwork had been destroyed. _

_And then he'd seen Fuery lying in a crumpled heap by the wall…_

#

Roy Mustang started awake and looked around guiltily. It was one thing to fall asleep in his office while he was supposed to be doing paperwork, but it was another thing entirely to fall asleep while waiting for news about an injured subordinate. If something had happened, and he slept through it, he'd never forgive himself.

Not that forgiving himself was an option at this point…

"Roy?" A shadow fell across his line of sight, then moved as quickly as it had come. "I brought you some coffee." Gracia Hughes sat down in the chair next to him and pressed a cup into his hands. "Maes told me you were still here. Are you okay?"

He blinked and rubbed his eyes. "Where's...?"

"Maes?" she asked. "Home with Elysia. And I sent Riza to get some sleep, too. She's been up for longer than you have. I promised them I'd look after you until Riza got back." She sat down next to him. "Have you heard anything yet?"

He shook his head. "A nurse came out a couple of hours ago," he said. "Said he was stable, but that was it."

"Did she say whether he'd regained consciousness?"

"She said he was in and out." Roy took a drink of the coffee, briefly savoring the sensation of the caffeine hitting his system, and stared into the cup. "What am I going to tell his mother? He's her only child, you know."

"The same thing you'd tell me if it were Maes lying in there," she said. "The same thing you'd tell Alphonse if it were Edward. The truth. He took on a monster. He got hurt, but he's going to be all right."

"We don't know that."

Gracia smacked him upside the head, something she hadn't done since they were in college. "Yes, we do," she said. "I looked in on him on the way here, and he's sleeping normally. The doctor will probably tell you he'll probably be okay for light duty within the next couple of weeks."

He rubbed the back of his head and glared at her balefully.

She returned the glare without blinking for a long moment before her expression softened. "Have you even been to see him yet?" she asked. At his wince, she sighed. "I didn't think so." She gestured in the direction of Fuery's room. "Go on," she said. "I think he'd want to see you."

#

Today is not a good day to die.

_This, after a skirmish with Envy. Furey had received a concussion and a broken arm, but the doctors said he'd be okay, given time._

#


	11. Shock to the System II

This one took a long time to write.

Like I said last time, I haven't written angst or drama for quite a while, so I'm a little out of practice. I went back and reread the last chapter (posted nearly two months ago!) and the reviews that went with it, and decided that I needed to write a second part. If nothing else, I got at least a couple of reviewers asking if Fuery was going to be okay.

This is my answer. I hope you like it.

As always, the only thing in this that belongs to me is the idea. FMA and the associated characters belong to Arakawa-san, and Dr. Fraiser belongs to the people who created _Stargate_ and _Stargate SG-1_.

Any reviews are welcome, and I'll respond to as many as I can.

Thanks for reading.

#

Shock to the System II

#

Kaine Fuery woke to find himself staring at an unfamiliar white ceiling and nursing the most monstrous headache he'd ever had in his life, including the time Havoc and Breda had decided he needed to get drunk at least once before he turned thirty and taken him on a pub-crawl that had lasted for most of a weekend.

"Master Sergeant Fuery?"

A woman's voice, but whose? It wasn't Lt. Hawkeye, or Lt. Ross... "Olivia?" he croaked. His voice felt like it hadn't been used in days.

"If you mean General Armstrong, no, but she has been called," the woman said. "My name's Dr. Janet Fraiser. I've been looking after you since you got here."

Fuery cracked open one eye and looked at her. His vision was blurred without his glasses, but he was still able to make her out a little. Dark hair and dark eyes and more cute than pretty, but still utterly professional. "...what happened?"

"There was a fight," she said. "How much do you remember?"

He frowned, and shut his eyes. The light was just making his head hurt worse. "That creature Edward and Alphonse were tracking," he said. "I...he broke my arm, and...that's really all I remember...sorry..."

"It's all right," she soothed, "you did fine. Are you up for a visitor? Your commanding officer has been sitting in the waiting room for a while now."

Colonel Mustang had been here? But, why? It wasn't like he was Hawkeye or Havoc or anyone like that…

"I can tell him you're sleeping, if you'd like," she added, taking his silence for a negative reply.

"No," he said. "Go ahead and let him in. I'm fine."

The look on her face said plainly that she didn't believe him. He could see that much even without his glasses. When he didn't say anything more, she relented. "All right." She disappeared for a few moments, and he could hear her talking to someone outside. "…only a few minutes, sir," she was saying.

There was another pause of a few more moments, and then Mustang stepped into the room. "Hello, Kaine," he said.

-0-


	12. Natural Blonde

Sorry this one took so long to get out. As I said in my profile, I'm getting ready to move, and events of RL have been overtaking me lately. Finding a new place has been a bitch and a half, and events in my current building have taken a turn for the weird.

Once again, we're stepping back and taking a look at Mustang and Co. from an outside POV. In other words, I'm bringing back Morgenstern and Robbins. I'd forgotten just how much fun these two were to write. They almost put me in mind of a not-so-successful take on Hughes and Mustang. I'll let you debate who's who.

This turned out to be an unexpected tie-in to Royai Day, even though Mustang barely puts in an appearance.

By the way, I haven't given up on Supplemental Rules and Regulations. I just had a hard time coming up with an acceptable opening segment. It is written, but I just need to finish editing it.

I still don't own FMA. I'm still just borrowing the characters from Arakawa-san, and Morgenstern and Robbins still belong to Paul.

And so, we now return you to your regularly scheduled slapstick.

#

Warrant Officer Cody Robbins had just sat down to lunch when his roll vanished from his plate. It wasn't that he was that fast an eater - he had a full hour for lunch and, by god, he made a point of using every last second. No, it was the blue-clad arm that had reached up from under the table and grabbed it.

"...Josh..." he said. He knew that uniform sleeve, and he'd recognized the odd six-pointed star on the ring.

"Yeah, Robbins?" Captain Joshua Morgenstern said from under the table.

"If I were to ask you what the hell you were doing under the table," he asked, "would I regret it?"

Sounds of chewing and a damp swallow. "No." The hand came up again. felt around on the tray, and closed on his bowl of soup. "You got any crackers, Robbins?" he asked. "I couldn't find any."

"No," Cody said, while visions of homicide danced in his head.

"I can't eat soup without crackers," Josh said. The hand let go of the bowl and grabbed half of Cody's sandwich instead.

"Josh," Cody said after a moment, "what the hell are you doing under the table, and why the hell are you stealing my lunch? Get your own, for god's sake!"

"You know, Robbins, all that yelling can't be good for your blood pressure," Josh commented through a mouthful of sandwich, "You might want to go talk to the new doc about that. I hear she's cute."

"Don't change the subject, Morgenstern," Cody snapped. "What did you do, who did you do it to, and how high was the body count?"

There was an embarrassed silence from under the table, then a muttered reply.

"Could you speak up, Josh?" he said. "I couldn't quite hear you."

"I...uh...asked Lt. Hawkeye if she was a natural blonde..."

"And?"

"Um...then I asked her to prove it..."

Cody opened his mouth to reply, then changed his mind. After four more attempts, he finally settled on a response. "Josh..."

"Yeah, Robbins?"

"Are you actively suicidal, or do you just have a death wish?" he asked. "Just so I know what to tell your dad when he asks."

"Neither," Josh said. "She seemed to think it was funny."

"Funny," Cody repeated. "SO WHY THE HELL ARE YOU HIDING FROM HER?"

"It's not her I'm hiding from," he said. "It's Flame."

Cody briefly considered banging his head on the table, but decided against it. He really didn't need another headache on top of the one he already had. "Let me get this straight," he said. "You asked the scariest woman on base that kind of question in front of the Flame Alchemist?"

"Yeah."

"He's just as scary as she is," he said. "Especially where she's concerned. Those two have supposedly had a thing going for years now."

"Tell me about it. I've got five hundred cenz on June eleventh as their wedding day."

"Josh, he will turn you into so much cooked meat if he catches you," Cody said. "The guy used to barbecue cities for a living, remember?"

"Exactly why I'm in hiding." He stole the other half of Cody's sandwich.

"Warrant Officer Robbins…" Cody's heart nearly stopped when he noticed Flame himself standing across the table from him, arms folded across his chest and a smirk on his face.

"S-sir?" he gulped. He could feel Josh moving under the table, probably trying to either wrap himself around Cody's legs or crawl under his chair.

"I was wondering if you could tell me where Captain Morgenstern is," he said. "I have a few matters I need to…discuss…with him."

#

You are not allowed to ask Lt. Hawkeye if she is a natural blonde.

_Although she didn't take any direct action against him, Captain Morgenstern hid for a month after he asked her._

#

A/N: For the record, yes, the six-pointed star was a Star of David, and yes, Morgenstern is Jewish. Just in case anyone wanted to know.


	13. Prank War:  What Goes Up

Once again, it's been a long time. Frankly, it's been too damn hot around here to concentrate on writing lately. Or much of anything else. There's been little to no movement on the getting-ready-to-move front, and the heat's to blame for that, too.

On top of that, work has, as always, been work, and my writing time has dropped off.

This is one piece that I've been wanting to write for a while, and I just couldn't quite figure out how. Until now. It was just weird enough to be a challenge, and I think I took it a step farther than I did in SR&R.

Let me know what you think.

As always, Fullmetal Alchemist and all associated characters and situations are not mine. If they were, the prank war would be canon.

#

The last thing Edward Elric expected when he went to drop his report off was an empty room. He looked around, then checked outside, on the off-chance that he had accidentally walked into an unused office without meaning to.

"Hey, Boss," Havoc said as Edward stepped into the outer office. "You okay?"

"Uh...yeah..." Edward said, almost to himself, "I think so. Say, did the Bastard move while I was gone, and not bother to tell me?"

"No, why?"

"Just...wondering," he said. Yes, he was definitely in the right office, so what the hell was going on?

He went back into the empty office and looked around again. The same curtains as always. The same ugly carpet, complete with lumps. The scratch on the wall from that last alchemical fight he and Mustang had had...

There was a faint snore from...up above him?

Knowing full well that he would probably regret it, Edward looked up.

There on the ceiling was all of Colonel Mustang's office furniture, set up the same as when it was on the floor. Strapped into his chair, sleeping like the proverbial baby, was the Bastard himself.

"..."

Edward opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, at a spectacular loss for words. After several attempts at making a comment, he finally shook his head, turned and walked out.

#

Put it back. Now.

a. You know what I mean.

_Edward didn't until he walked into Mustang's office and found all of the colonel's office furniture and everything on it on the ceiling. He blinked, shook his head, left his report with Lt. Hawkeye, and put in for a vacation. _

"_I think I've been working too hard," he said._

#

A/N: Any ideas on how Mustang got up there?_  
_


End file.
